


Once upon a time...

by distractionpie



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Dragons, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Royalty, Transformation, casual nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 01:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10911498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distractionpie/pseuds/distractionpie
Summary: ...there was a dragon —who was not always a dragon— and a thief who would become so much more.





	Once upon a time...

ONCE UPON A TIME, IN A LAND FAR FAR AWAY, there was a carriage travelling through the night. Its route wound down lonely roads, for there was little business to be had after nightfall in those parts and few folk who had the means to travel, but the man in the carriage was a wealthy lord who ordered his coachmen to work through the night and whip the weary horses so that he might be spared another day of travelling and be sooner returned to his mansion.

They were but scant leagues from their destination when the coach drew to an early stop, for by the light of the full moon the driver had spotted a figure in his path. The driver might have offered his assistance, taking pity on the fellow dressed in ragged scraps of an unfamiliar kind of leather, but, before he could, his passenger leapt from the vehicle – enraged by the delay.

Taking the stranger for a beggar, the man struck him twice across the face for causing the interruption and pronounced him a wastrel and a vagrant. He then told the man that he was banished from those lands for the man in the carriage was a lord and since the death of the King and the disappearance of their Prince he had claimed their authority for himself and there were none who dared try to curb his tyranny and spite.

With the stranger cast out of his path, the lord re-entered his carriage and by the time he’d returned to his mansion he’d already half put the encounter out of his mind.

The days passed and the lord went about his business, his mind entirely at peace, until one sunny evening when his work was interrupted by an earth-shattering roar which filled his heart with dread, for there were mountains around the land where the lord made his home and while they had once been the jewel of the kingdom they were now home to a monstrous dragon.

The beast had taken roost there shortly after the death of the king and preyed on every lord in the kingdom’s dominion but there were none who dared challenge it. All lived in fear of the days on which the dragon’s wings would cast their lands into shadow, as it swept down to claim livestock from their fields and treasure from travelling merchants. Only one duchy had attempted to keep the beast from claiming whatever prize it wished, and for that their lord’s manor had been razed and rumour told that the dragon had promised a worse fortune on whomsoever was next foolish enough to cross its path.

The lord’s servants rushed to tell him of the new arrival, but there was no need for there could be no other creature who could have produced an utterance so terrible. A great apprehension consumed the lord at the prospect of facing the dragon, but greater still was the fear of what might be the consequence of keeping the beast waiting.

Hunkered on the lawn, the dragon was a sight to behold. High as house, with wings that cast a shadow over all in sight, a rush of smoke escaped its maw as it spoke. “Where is he who would claim these lands as his own?”

“Tis I,” the lord called out tremulously and the dragon turned its dark eyes upon him.

“I am the greatest power in this realm,” the dragon boomed. “With what army have you claimed it from me?”

The lord shook, for while he wielded great power over the peasants of the land he had no strength to face the dragon. “N-none sir,” said he.

“Then what price have you paid for them?” the dragon asked.

“N-none sir,” said the lord, his pride overruled by his fear. “For as you say, they are your lands.”

“And yet you dared to proclaim yourself their master,” the dragon said. “And now you must pay.”

The lord cowered, head filled with visions of the dragon seizing him within its jaws or turning all of his lands to ash. “I am a man of great means,” he said, “Name your price.”

The dragon stared down at him. “Such a slight demands high recompense,” it said, “And your wealth pales in comparison to mine, but bring before me all the treasures of your estate and I will see for myself if any of what you offer is of sufficient value to be worthy of a place in my hoard.”

And though the lord had a great love of his many fineries, his fear of the dragon was greater and so he acquiesced. For two days and two nights the servants emptied the mansion onto the lawn, the lord’s every possession laid before the dragon who was pleased by none.

It was clear to all who bore witness that the beast was growing impatient and the servants began to whisper of what would happen if none of their lord’s treasures appeased the creature.

On the dawn of the third day most of the whole household was treading lightly in fear of attracting the attention of dissatisfied dragon, except for the butler who fretted over the prospect of so many of his lord’s delicate possessions resting out of the lawn while the sky was dark with rainclouds, when they were interrupted by the lord’s guards.

“My lord! My lord!” they called out. “We have caught a thief on your lands!”

Though the lord feared the displeasure of the dragon, he would relinquish none of his treasure to common thieves and so he bade the prisoner be brought before him.

The man they had caught was no usual sort of thief, but a poacher. He came from a nearby village, populated by the lord’s serfs. He was the son of a tanner and a gifted leatherworker until the lord’s high taxes had driven his village into poverty. His family had fled the land to seek their fortunes under kinder masters, but the young man had stayed and done his best to keep up their home so that his family might have a place to reunite when they were prosperous again. Since the villagers were too poor to trade in finely crafted goods any longer, he’d begun to trespass on to the lord’s lands, laying traps and hunting the smaller game until he had enough to feed himself and a little left over to trade with the villagers for that which he needed but couldn’t produce on his own.

That man’s name was Joe, and he was beaten bloody when he was dragged up to the front of the mansion for the guards were simple men, powerless in the face of a dragon, but eager to reassert their authority in arresting a fellow man.

He was pushed to his knees in front of the lord, but cast his gaze aside, instead watching the dragon who had been the subject of many whispers in the village since its arrival.

The lord repeated the guards’ charges and then proclaimed his own generosity by offering the possibility of mercy should Joe show his contrition. But Joe refused to bow and refused to beg, for he cared little for the laws written by a man who failed in his duties over the land and its people and so the lord’s temper flared and he struck Joe’s already wounded face in much the same manner he had the man who’d angered him.

“You insolent rat,” the lord spat, “For your crimes you will be—”

He was interrupted by the earth-shaking rumble of the dragon’s voice. “That,” the dragon declared, shocking all of those assembled, who could hardly have disregarded the dragon’s presence but whose attention had drifted during the proceedings.

The lord turned to the dragon uncertainly. “What is it that you desire?”

“I have chosen my prize,” the tremendous beast declared. “I shall have that thief.”

A silence fell over the gathering. The guards stared at each other in shock, the servants felt a shiver of belated fear because none of them had even thought to be concerned that the dragon might see them as treasure. The lord, however, was delighted. He had feared the dragon would claim his gold or his jewels and grew merry at the thought of the foolish beast wasting this chance on a petty criminal of no value at all.

Indeed, the only person not satisfied by this arrangement was the thief. “What do you mean, have me?” he said, aghast.

“Your lord offered me my choice of all on his estate, it is on that estate which you trespassed and on that estate which you stand,” the dragon explained. “You will make a fine addition to my treasures.”

“I’m no treasure,” Joe protested. He glared towards the lord in disgust, “And certainly not _his_ to give.”

“Go as you are bid,” the lord demanded. “And stay. For if you remain in these lands I will see you hung for your trespass. And no man would cross a dragon to shelter you.”

Harsh though the lord’s words were, Joe knew them to be true. Though he might wish to battle against this turn of his fortune, he was not so selfish as so risk drawing both the lord’s and the dragon’s ire upon his village.

Still, he has expected at least a little more negotiation, but instead he was swept up between the beast’s claws and a moment later they are airborne.

He was wary of causing the dragon to loosen its grip on him, rising as rapidly as they are, but he shifted until he could see downward, gazing fearlessly as the drop and the land he had always called home shrinking away beneath him.

Captivated by the view, he lost all sense of time, knowing only that by the time they begin to drop again his home was out of sight, and although it was spring the mountain peak the dragon dropped him on was snow-capped. His clothes were hardly meant for such conditions and tattered besides, the chill stealing his breath.

The dragon flew off, leaving him shivering and wondering why on earth it would demand to take him, only to leave him to freeze, but sometime later the dragon returned and began to herd him down the mountain, growling whenever he stalled for more than a moment until finally they reached the mouth of an enormous cave.

The dragon’s den.

He squinted as he made his way through the gloomy passage, nearly tripping over the uneven and slippery stones underfoot, until finally he stepped into the main chamber.

He’d expected it to be cold and damp, a dismal lair, but the cavern was magnificent.

It was like the whole mountain has been hollowed out to form an enormous chamber, lit from above by a source Joe could not see. Shining treasures stretched out before him, heaped but not without order.

The dragon settled, coiling itself upon a heap of coins and jewels that looked sharp edged and uncomfortable to Joe but the beast seemed unperturbed. Joe watched it in silence for several long minutes before finally speaking up, “What now?”

The dragon blinked lazily at him, and Joe continued, “I mean, you must have brought me here for something, right?”

The dragon let out a low rumble. “You are mine,” it said, “And so you belong here with my collection… Attempt to leave and your death is certain.”

Joe raised his eyebrows. “Is that a threat?”

“A warning. The mountain is steep and icy and bears no safe paths,” the dragon said, “You would freeze or fall, so you will not leave.”

“So I just stay here, until what? I starve?”

“I am not careless with my treasures,” the dragon growled. “Every piece of silver you see is polished, and no moth dare near my silks, you will have whatever share of my hunt is fit to sustain you.”

Joe nodded warily. “But what do you want me to do?”

“Stay here, and do as you please,” the dragon corrected, “Although see no harm comes to the rest of my treasures.”

“You brought me here to do nothing?”

“Your lord promised me fine recompense for his insults, but all he had brought before me were gaudy trinkets and items of lazy craftsmanship,” the dragon said, “I brought you here so that he would suffer your loss.”

Joe thought that the dragon must have misunderstood what had passed between Joe and the Lord, for certainly the man must have found great joy in Joe being claimed by the dragon, but if the beast was contented with this line of reasoning that Joe saw no reason to draw its ire.

And so the days passed. The dragon seemed to have no objection to Joe exploring his treasures and whenever the beast returns from its hunts it brings with it fresh caught deer or stolen crates of fruit. Surprisingly the beast was unbothered by Joe’s requests for its great and terrible breath to be used to start a cooking fire, bending low and offering up a puff of sparks whenever Joe needed one, and though he’d never have chosen such circumstances, it was the most comfortable life Joe had ever led.

When he grew dirty the dragon showed him to a series of pools towards the rear of the cavern and Joe stripped casually, no sense of modesty before the beast, entering the water to scrub off and avoid sullying the beast’s treasures.

He let out a startled moan as he sunk in. He’d been braced for the water to be cool but instead it’s heated to the very upper end of what was comfortable, although the pool seems to be natural and he could not see how it was heated.

It was large enough to swim, and there was no current or fish unlike the stream he learned in, so he kicked off the side, submerging his head and taking laps of the pool before he surfaced, shaking his wet hair from his eyes, to see the dragon watching him lazily, smoke puffing from its snout.

He bathed a little longer, scrubbing down until he was as clean as he had ever been before he made his way across to where he left his clothes, only to rear back when the dragon exhaled a thin burst of flame, catching them alight.

He cursed in his surprise, but the dragon was unblinking in the face of his irritation. Joe wasn’t cold, although he had no way of knowing if the cave will stay so pleasantly warm, but he felt unnervingly vulnerable at loosing what little protection he had at the same time as being so forcefully reminded of the dangers of the beast.

“My hoard is home to treasures,” the dragon growled. “There is no place here for rags.”

Rags they may have been, but they were Joe’s and he said as much but in response the dragon offered only a noise of disgust.

Joe’s shock did not keep him still for long, and soon enough he turned away in frustration, searching through the files pf treasure until he found several trunks full of rich clothing with which he might replace his own incinerated possessions.

The cave contained vast wealth and soon enough he had unearthed a great many finer things than he has ever owned and elaborately dyed and embroidered silks and velvets finer than he’d even seen, and supple leather and suede nearly as fine as his own crafts. As a price for being snatched away, he decided to select the finest things from the pile that seem to fit him, butter soft leathers and a shirt of a fabric he couldn’t identify but which was feather light and flowed like water when he ran it through his fingers before pulling it on.

He swam often after that, and could feel his muscles building from the good food and regular exercise, and in between times he entertained himself well enough with the hoard of treasures. He took to sorting through it for items that were useful as well as valuable, and working his way through the mountain of clothes in order to pick out more sets which fit him, and sometimes dressing in the most absurd fineries and making a mockery of the upper classes he’d encountered while trading in the city, garbed in feathers and lace.

Mid-month the dragon vanished for several days, and Joe found that although he had been left enough food and he enjoyed the comforts of the treasure, there was little entertainment in being alone with it. The dragon might not have been chatty company, but a silent companion was very different from solitude.

Joe found himself talking more to the creature upon its return, the dragon answered rarely and would grow snappish if Joe tried to distract it too long from its treasure but it was still company, and better than he’d had since his family had been forced to leave him behind.

He was exploring a new heap of treasure, for no matter how he dug through the piles there always seems to be more, when he stumbled across an item that didn’t seem to fit, a heavy belt with a gold buckle that might have suited the collection were it not for the fact that the leather was torn. He was about to examine it further when he was interrupted by a burst of flame, sparks singeing his hair.

“Do not touch that!” the dragon demanded.

Joe almost dropped the belt, but pulled himself together at the last minute, glaring up at the beast and remind himself that if the dragon wanted rid of him so badly it could always let him leave. “Is this really so precious to you that out of all your treasure this is the one thing you won’t share,” he said, lifting the belt up an examining it with a craftsman’s eyes. “It’s finely made, and here at the damaged part is the royal crest, so I suppose that’s what makes it so valuable,” Joe remarked, “Or it would be if it wasn’t broken.”

The dragon let out another low growl and Joe had to fight the urge to recoil – he had learned to be unafraid of the beast, who it seemed would not harm him any more than it would damage its other treasures but there was wrath in the dragon’s eyes as it loomed over him.

“It was the first treasure of my collection,” the dragon said, turning its head away and speaking in the quietest voice he had ever heard of it. “And so it has value beyond measure, damaged beyond repair thought it might be.”

“Beyond repair?” Joe scoffed. “A tear like that is easily fixed,” he said, and the dragon returned its beady gaze to him. “I was a leatherworker before that lord raised taxes and bankrupted my family’s business. If you have any tools among this treasure hoard I could have that as good as new in a few hours.”

In truth, it wasn’t such an easy fix, but Joe was skilled at his craft and more importantly took pleasure in the work. As he mended he contemplated the presence of the royal seal on the work, remembering a rumour he’d once heard claiming that the beast had eaten the prince, although from what Joe had observed the dragon’s tastes ran more to venison.

With the belt mended more days passed and the dragon grew increasingly ill-tempered, pacing the cave and scattering treasure across the floor. One evening it gave a horrendous cry and appeared to collapse in on itself until it was nothing but a heap of leathery skin, which Joe approached warily. As he drew near the heap of skin began to shift, a man emerging in the dragon’s place.

He was a little taller than Joe, fair skinned and raven haired, with the sort of fine features that were suited to the valuable portraits of the treasure hoard. His face was unknown to Joe but the dark intensity in those eyes was familiar.

The man cleared his throat and then said in a startling soft voice, "I suppose you wonder why I reside in the beastly form when I can also appear like this?"

"Not really," Joe said, who hadn’t reached the point of wondering yet and was still stuck on surprise. But after a moment’s thought that still wasn’t the question on his mind. "Who _wouldn't_ be a dragon if they could?"

The man blinked at him looking shocked. “It is a curse.”

Joe scowled – there were few things more annoying than somebody who can’t appreciate what they had.

“I angered a fae creature,” the man continued, oblivious to the fact that he was angering Joe too. “And a punishment for my greed and wrath I was placed in the form of a beast the fae thought reflected my true self.”

“What did you _do_?” Joe asked, half wondering what acts of greed and wrath he would need to commit in order to have such a power for his own.

“It doesn’t matter,” the man said, although Joe disagreed. “But I am cursed to only return to my true form by the light of the full moon, and though I may venture out, if I am not back in this cave by sunrise then the curse will deepen, and I shall not only lose my human form but my human mind, and shall live as a true beast, incapable of speech or intelligence, only the greed and wrath the fae creature saw in my soul.”

Joe bit his lip, taking the revelations in. It was a strange tale, true, but no stranger than his own experiences of being taken as a dragon’s prize. “If you’re a person, you must have a name?”

The man sighed. “Ronald…” he said, and gave no family name nor home. “Now leave me.”

The words did not have the same threat behind them as usual, a man Joe could fight like he couldn’t a dragon, but he heard a deep weariness and so he nodded, and left Ronald to his own devices.

For a few hours Joe was guarded, but Ron’s presence as a man was no different from his presence as a dragon, watchful and quiet, he seemed to be taking the opportunity to examine those treasures in his collection to small or fragile for the dragon’s limbs.

He seemed to care little for human niceties, not bothering to clothe himself, although he bathed in the hot pools for some time, until the night was over and he made his way back to his shed skin, returning to his dragon shape with a second agonised sound.

Time passed, and Ron parted once again for several days around the new moon, and was again a man as the moon grew full. It was often said that there was little that a person cannot accustom themselves to given time and life among the dragon’s treasures slowly became natural and with that came boredom.

The luxuries of the hoard were comfortable and decorative but not much entertainment. Ron talked to him sometimes but was often out hunting or sleeping, and it wasn’t like a dragon could play cards or anything.

He had raised the matter once and received only annoyance from Ron, who asked, "Is this mountain of wealth not sufficient for you?"

"Well it's obviously not sufficient for you since you keep going out to fetch more," was Joe’s sardonic response and Ron had no counter to that.

Still, it seemed like little would change until one day Ron returned from a hunt, one flank coated with blood.

He landed in the middle of the cave, curling around himself and burrowing into the treasure. The roar he gave when Joe approached shook Joe down to the bones but he pressed forward, climbing atop a gilded armoire in order to better examine the wound.

Most of Ron’s hide was black as night, but the gash was across the comparatively delicate skin by the underside of his wing where he took upon a greenish hue.

"What happened?" he asked, using a nearby tapestry to clear the streaks of half-congealed blood from Ron's hide.

“It appears your lord feels most gravely slighted by the loss of you than you predicted," Ron explained. "An army is amassing, intent on removing me from these lands."

Joe was perplexed. “You’re a dragon, they can’t kill you,” he said, "What have you to fear?"

“No, but a thousand valuable lives might be thrown away to make the attempt, and since that cannot happen I must leave these lands.”

“But you said that if you were away from these caves at sunrise after being human you’d be stuck as a dragon forever.”

Ron nodded his large, scaly head. "That may my fate; or I shall attempt to seek the fae who cast this enchantment that they might adjust the curse to let me claim a new home."

"But if you go out you’ll be hunted," Joe pointed out.

"I have no other choice."

“I could go, and speak to this… fae… on your behalf,” Joe said.

 “No treasure of mine has ever left this cave,” Ron responded, a growl creeping into his voice.

“You said you were leaving,” Joe reminded him. “So it’s gonna happen one way or the other, unless you were planning on abandoning me here to starve.

Ron let out a stream of sparks.

“There is no way back here for a human,” Ron said and Joe wondered if he would really squander what little chance he had of saving himself just to keep Joe in the cavern he planned to abandon.

He thought for a moment about saying that Ron could find him and bring him back once the situation was dealt with, but although the cave was a comfortable prison Joe still preferred not to be trapped. “Do you want your curse breaking or not?”

Ron stared at him for a moment, then began to claw at his wound until the cut flap of skin came loose. “Take this,” he said.

“You want me to take your skin?” he said incredulously.

“Dragon hide may not be impregnable, but it is stronger than any other. Your journey may be hazardous-”

“-And you don’t want anything to happen that could stop me getting the curse reversed,” Joe finished. So, he took the dragon hide, and used what tools had made it into Ron’s collection to fashion himself a sturdy travelling cloak.

It was two more days before he set out, as Ron saw him supplied with what travelling gear existed among the treasures and provisions for the trip, which Ron estimated would be several days walk beyond the edge of the kingdom based on what he knew of the fae.

Finally, the day dawned, bright and clear, and Joe was once again swept up between deadly claws, this time as Ron deposited him on the plains at the base of the mountain.

It was a strange parting, for though Joe had not been pleased to be taken by the dragon he had come around to that life, and though he would never have spoken of it he had grown fond of Ron’s company.

When Ron returned to the mountain, Joe set out walking. He could have gone home and hoped the lord had forgotten his crimes in the months since, or sought out his family to start a new life like they had. There was no way that Ron could check that Joe was doing as he’d pledged or punish him for shirking – but to abandon the quest was to leave Ron in danger, and that Joe could not do.

The first and second days of his journey were peaceful, he followed the route Ron had given him and foraged rather than use up his supplies. It was a lonely path, and for the first time in a long while he felt true solitude and found he disliked it.

The deeper into the woods he walked, the less game there was to hunt and though there were still many plants they were all of the poisonous kind.

By the tenth day of his travels his food supplies were exhausted and his water was running low, and though he ought to be nearing the edge of the woods the trees showed no signs of thinning.

When his exhaustion grew near to overcoming him he took a brief rest against the base of a tree, and as he waited there a trader emerged from the trees, pushing a small cart.

“A fellow traveller,” he cried out at the sight of Joe. “It is rare to cross paths in these woods. But you look hungry, care to buy some of my stock?”

The cart was stacked with rosy apples and strange exotic fruits Joe couldn’t name. “What is the cost?”

The trader eyed him. “I’ll take that fine cloak of yours,” he said.

Joe shook his head. “What other payment would you take?”

“Nothing but the cloak,” the trader said. “What a fine piece it is. And surely you don’t need it, these woods are not so cold.”

Joe thought about it. This was the first encounter with another person he’d had on the journey and for a moment he considered it – after all, he hardly needed the cloak for protection if there was nothing to be protected from. But it had been given to him by Ron for a reason and was Ron’s skin and though the gift hadn’t come with explicit conditions it still felt wrong to give it away.

“I cannot,” he said.

“Are you certain?” the trader said. “I know these woods well; you are not likely to hear another offer such as mine.”

Joe glared. “I have given my answer. There is nothing in your cart worth half of what this cloak is, and I will not squander the gift.”

“Very well,” said the trader, “You shape your own fate.” And with that he resumed his journey, disappearing out of sight between the trees.

After his short rest, Joe travelled on, growing weak with hunger until finally, he came to the copse of trees where the fae creature who had cursed Ron dwelled. Joe knew instantly he was in the right place, for there was a strange aura to the place, a supernatural calm which made his skin itch.

As he entered the glade the trees encompassed he saw the creature – almost human but a little too tall and a little too thin, and unnatural in its movements as it turned on him.

“So you come to beg me to reverse my judgement upon the dragon,” it said.

Joe was surprised. “You know what I’m here for?”

“I know all the occurs in these woods,” the creature said. “And I have watched as you have stolen in your pursuit – one of the very infractions that first inspired my curse.”

Joe was flooded with righteous anger. “I have nothing I had not justly earned or been fairly given.”

“And wrath too. Do not lie to me, human, you have items from the beast’s hoard, and even it’s flesh” the fae said with a laugh that was sweet and high in tone, but sounded full of malice to Joe’s ears. “A dragon guards its treasures fiercely,”

“They were gifted to me freely,” Joe declared, “When the dragon relinquished his claim on me.”

The fae looked startled. “It is not in the nature of a dragon to surrender its treasures or to share its spoils.”

“ _He_ faces death should you keep him trapped as he is,” Joe said, “And he shared his treasure with me from the moment I entered his cavern.”

“Death?” the fae said, eyes going cloudy. “Yes, I see. The lords of this land have grown unruly without a firm hand to guide them. Perhaps you are correct and the strength of the curse may have harmed as much as it helped.”

“So you’ll remove it?” Joe asked.

The fae shook its head. “I cannot. The nature of the curse cannot be changed, but perhaps it can be tempered as you have tempered the dragon.”

“Then do that,” Joe said, impatient with the creatures need to muse so much on such a simple request.

“The transformation will still happen, but it will be more controlled, he may keep his mind even in the darkest nights,” the fae said. “However, for this to occur, you must share in the curse and also assume the form of the beast.”

Joe almost laughed, thinking of the possibilities such a change permitted. “To be a dragon? That’s no curse, but a blessing I accept gladly.”

“Very well,” the fae said, fluttering its spindly hands. “May my spell be reworked and the burden of the curse borne between you willingly.”

“Is that all?” asked Joe, who had never had sought to learn the ways of magic. “There’s no incantations, no rituals?”

The fae shook its head. “The work is done. But I have a final request.” Joe sighed, exasperated. “Bring news of this to palace,” the fae ordered.

“There’s no one at the palace,” Joe said. “It is an empty monument to a vanished prince.”

The fae smiled. “Your journey will take you many days,” he said. “And much has changed as you have quested. I believe that when you return the land will have a good king once more.”

Joe was doubtful but he nodded, for it had been his intent to go to the city

The fae smiled and said, “Blessings be upon you then,” and before Joe could give any response, it vanished before his eyes.

He let his mind wander to the most draconic thoughts he could muster and for a moment his whole world was pain, but then that pain became power and when he stretched he felt broad wings unfurl, and when he laughed it was with a shower of sparks.

Still, while there were people hunting Ron meant that it was unwise for Joe to cross the country by wing, so he shifted back and set out as he had come.

He walked for many days, and although the journey to the city was as long as the one to find the fae he encountered no obstacles and found that now the path was full of safe plants and easy game with which to eat his fill. Eventually, he arrived at the great walled city that the was the capital. The city was full of whispers of overthrown lords, but also celebration, for it seemed that after many long years their prince had by some miracle returned to them and was to be crowned king that very day.

As the fae had predicted.

Joe made his way to the castle, thinking it was unlikely a stranger would be able to arrange an audience with the king, especially on the day of the king’s coronation and when the fineries in which Joe left the dragon’s cave dressed in were travel worn now, torn and stained - all except for the dragon hide of his cloak which was as glossy as when it had been newly made.

The place was easy to find, gleaming and pristine, it’s glittering spires towered over even the tallest of the other buildings in the city.

People stared at Joe as he arrived at the gates but none barred his passage as he entered. He was out of place among the elegant courtiers, but the knowledge of his own power kept him from fearing their judgement as he made his way towards the throne room.

Two guards watched the doors, and Joe braced for conflict as he saw them, but their eyes widened at the sight of him and they both bowed and opened the door for him.

A hush fell over the throne room as he entered, but Joe cared not for the court, only for delivering his message to the king. He fell to a halt, though, as he took in the figure seated upon the throne. Ron, garbed in heavy velvet and shining armour, and the belt that Joe had repaired for him, a crown of gold nestled in his dark hair as if it belonged there. Joe had spent little time with him in his human form, but his eyes had never changed and they were unmistakable as they widened as Ron ascended, crossing the chamber towards Joe.

“You broke my curse,” Ron said, ignoring the way the surrounding courtiers dropped into deep bows.

Joe shook his head and didn’t so much as bend a knee - he had not bent for the lord nor for the dragon, and he would not start for king. “Not broken but… amended. Your form will still change, but only on the new moon or as you bid it, and you mind will remain yours.”

“And what price did the fae demand for this?” Ron asked, something strange and dark lurking behind his eyes. “Those creatures always have a price and I will not let it hold a debt when I have a whole kingdom with which to arrange payment.”

“No price,” Joe said, letting a grin slip over his features. “Only that I too should undergo the transformation. The fae creature still calls it a curse, but you have heard before what I make of that.”

Ron’s lips twitched, perhaps in recollection of the many hours of annoyance Joe had expressed whenever he felt Ron was complaining overmuch about his transformation. “But you wear this still,” he said, reaching out to touch the cloak, “Though if things are as you say you no longer have need of it.”

Joe rolled his shoulders. “It’s value is in more than its usefulness,” he confessed.

“I bade the whole realm look for it,” Ron said, “That I might know if you returned to this land.”

Joe nodded, understanding then the stares he had drawn. “The fae creature bid me come here to deliver you the news of what had transpired,” he said, and Ron’s eyes dimmed a little before Joe continued, “I had planned to retrace my route back to the mountain and you cave - transformed the path would no longer be impassable to me.”

“You would have returned?” Ron said slowly.

“It was my first thought when the fae spoke of granting me the power,” Joe confessed, though he’d barely recognised the idea forming in his mind at the time. “With the freedom to come and go as I pleased there is no place I would rather have returned to.”

“I gave you your freedom and you used it well, yet I am as the fair folk accused me of being. Although I have reclaimed my titles and my throne my greed is not yet satisfied,” Ron lifted the crown from his own head, dropping to one knee and presenting the gold band to Joe. “If you would have stayed with me in that cave as dragon, I ask you now to stay with me here as a king. Be mine?”

And so the hero who was once a thief looked down at the king who was once a dragon now on bended knee and offering up his greatest treasure, not the crown but everything it symbolised, and said yes.

And they lived happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how I feel about this final result but this was a really interesting experiment. The style of fairy tales, using archetypes and very direct storytelling, is pretty different to what I aim for with my usual writing style and what I was always taught to typically consider 'good writing' and so quite frustrating to adapt to but it was a fun process and I taught myself new html/a little about css while procrasti-formatting ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯.


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